Start Back at One
by MagicallyChallenged
Summary: This is my take on 9x10 run baby run... i hope kinda this is how it goes... had to write it hope you all enjoy.


**Start Back at One**

**Authors Note: I had to write this, it's as simple as that. It's been bugging me all day and no, it won't affect my other fic writing which shall hopefully be posted later when I get back from class.**

**Xxx Peace and Love, Magically Challenged XXXX**

'What have I done?' it's a whisper, an ethereal breath but it's all I can manage. My heart is working overtime pounding a deafening rhythm to match the words, over and over. I look around me at the sea of disappointed faces, and then there's hers. She's standing in front of me, a vision in red and yet despite the happiness that surrounded the day she looks… heartbroken. I did that, that's all my fault. My breathing is becoming staggered, I open my mouth wide to allow for more air but instead I end up gasping and inaudible sobs threaten to make themselves heard. I can't believe I did this.

When I told Bailey to run, I don't know what I was thinking. It's never as easy as they make out, one foot in front of the other? No. It's never that simple because with each step you take, something gets hurt, someone gets hurt and then as you finally break into that sprint where you thing freedom will wrap its glorious arms around you like a protective cloak and whisper reassurances into your ear, it doesn't. Instead you feel a hollow space freeing in your chest, your hands shake, your legs crumble and before you know it you've got nothing. You're a mess on the floor, miles away from the finish line you thought you saw on the horizon.

I didn't mean for it to come out the way it did, and the moment I heard her ask me that question, the moment I saw her eyes turn down towards the floor I knew my race would end unfinished. I watched it disappear on the horizon as her hand dropped to her side and ghosted a path over her dress, over the place her leg used to be and I heard her inwardly cursing herself. My lips are dry from panic, and my eyes are threatening to spill tears like flood warnings from prophets past. I can't do this. I can't be responsible for this. This isn't how it was supposed to go.

I glance over to where she stands, static, her eyes wide in disbelief, and her posture displaying signs of defeat I've never seen in her. But its what's behind her eyes that scares me most. I can see it even from across the room, behind the cerulean oceans that swirl in her eyes, there's a constellation of sadness. A heartache that spells my name when viewed from the right angle. I inhale, my lungs allowing me this without a struggle and I know I have to fix this, but I don't know how. So I wait.

I linger around the bar, fiddling absentmindedly with a cocktail stirrer, bringing it to my lips and chewing as my mind flitters around visions of our better days, of days when I made her smile and I sigh. The bartender makes his way towards me and I order a drink I know I won't touch, not even Dutch courage could help me now. I'm at the point of no return, and so I walk. I make my way around the perimeter of the room, steering clear of familiar faces, and I'm thankful that no one approaches me. What would I say if they did?

I can't hide this, just like I can't fight it. I know she thinks I was talking about us. I know she is stood there wondering if I had considered running from her and I know if she asks me I'll tell her the truth. It's dangerous, the truth. It could bring the walls crashing around what has been a very hard sandcastle to preserve. I have endured each wave that's surrounded me, I have made myself impermeable but as with anything that tries to be strong for too long, I have my flaws. If you looked at my heart under close scrutiny you could see the bruises and the holes I just don't know how to fix. You would see how close I am to giving in.

I find the buffet table and stand in line, at least this will help pass the time, it will make it look like I'm doing anything but what I'm really doing. Avoiding her. How do you recover from a conversation like that? How do you say sorry for hurting you, when you're hurting too. The line moves slowly, my heart is still pounding so loud that I'm starting to feel lightheaded, my hips are swaying side to side and to the onlooker it would seem I'm dancing but I'm moments from falling to my knees.

I'm afraid, of what she thinks, of what she will say next and of what she will do. Of what we will both do when this day is over. Where will we go from here?. The line shuffles forward and I clench my fists, blowing out a breath and hoping some of my uncertainty follow suit. It doesn't. It doesn't really work like that. As I reach the plates, I extend my hand slowly and allow my trembling fingers to lift the ceramic circle, its heavy weight adding pressure to my palm. Its calming, soothing, carrying the extra weight and so I begin to add colour to the plain canvas, not really looking at what I'm doing until I feel her next to me. How do I know it's her? You'd laugh if I told you.

She's like the moon, Arizona… She's like the moon.

I know she's there even before she has taken a breath, even before she has taken a step into my peripheral view, even before she places a hand on my lower back. Like the moon, even before the clouds move, her light is so bright that it creates an aura around her that can warm you from miles away. You know when you look at the sky on the dullest of days, and the clouds are dark, and angry but if you look really hard each one has a glowing edge? Some people call it the silver lining… when I look at her, when I feel her presence, its there…I think it's what hopes glimmer looks like.

I begin to speak, nonsense falling from my lips in a rushed nervousness that I know throws her off guard. She opens her mouth and stops me in my tracks, her deep red lips parting and words falling softly into the air around us. Then it registers in my mind what she is saying. Her words are louder than the beating of my heart and the look on her face says more than her words ever can. She smiles at me nervously, and I tilt my head to the side.

'I just did something…I got us a room, just now… the guy at the desk says it really nice and it's has a view though I honestly say I only care that it has a bed'

For a moment, logic takes hold of the controls and I wonder if all this standing has been too much for her and so I ask her 'Are you tired?'

'No', it's such a simple word, but such a powerful statement, it finds my ears like a forgotten song sucking in a breath as realisation hits me and I'm frozen, my mouth wide open.

'Oh… you got us a room?' my voice is low, barely audible but full of a desire I've tried to hold back the past few months. I allow my gaze to run the length of her body, looking for a sign that I've read this wrong but she steps closer to me and smiles wide.

'Yes'

Not quite believing what I'm hearing I decide to clarify… 'So we can?'

'Yes' she repeats and I feel my heart start another rapid incline, its beating no longer a heavy pounding but now a light fast paced fluttering that is another calling card of the beautiful woman before me. Not allowing myself to waste another second I turn from her and begin to lighten the pressure in my hand, removing all colour from the plate, returning it to the clean slate it was when I began. In my rush I reach for the serving spoon in the hand of the stranger next to me and I can hear his whispers of confusion and so I breath out my explanation and an apology.

'Sorry, but If you knew you'd understand' my eyes flit upwards momentarily and I offer him a small nod of the head, before turning back to her and for a second my heart stops.

She has her hand raised, palm open and fingers outstretched, the universal sign for stop, and then she is mouthing the words 'hold on, listen…' my mouth falls open and then she begins again '…we should take some of that to go, you know in case we work up an appetite', and with that I begin to grab the nearest items in view and place them back on my plate as a nervous giggle finds its way into the open shaking me to the core as it does. She reaches for my hand and begins to lead me away.

I can feel her elevated pulse between our hands, the heat generated by her touch is enough to warm me entirely and I can feel my eyelids becoming heavy with this wave of satisfaction that's currently sweeping over my body. I'm taking steps subconsciously, she's leading the way and I can't help but think this is exactly as it should be. I've waited months, given her space to try and work things out herself because that's the kind of person she is. She's strong, admirably so and she's capable of moving mountains and tonight she's pushing hard. We head towards the stairs and a momentary reflection causes us to divert to the left and we come to a stop.

She elevates her free hand, fingers extending as she presses the button to call the elevator and something just clicks in me. My hands untangle from hers and slip slowly around her waist, pulling her back into my chest as my head drops instinctively, my nose brushing her hair aside and my lips finding the soft skin on her neck I trail a series of kisses up to her ear. I can feel her shoulders rise and fall, and her breathing becomes as ragged as my own. She reaches her hand once more, no elegance this time only hurry as she presses the button quickly and impatiently.

The elevator sounds, and the doors open painfully slow but she's took a step inside before they fully extend and to her own surprise she takes too eager a step and begins to falter. I feel the pull of her body and tighten my hold around her waist, stepping forward and keeping her upright. She turns in my arms and looks up at me, it's there, right in the corner of her eye a meteor shower of hope and need in equal measurement. I bite my lip and allow my hand to travel the contours of her body, fingers tracing their way up over her hips which are now circling against my own, up her sides, arms until I reach my desired location. Cupping her chin I tilt her face to the heavens, my lips moving to cover hers and it's in that instant everything makes sense. Every question between us is answered. Her hand tangles in my hair, the other using my hip to steady herself and I tighten my hold around her waist once again.

I owe her this, this safety, this steadiness, I know I haven't been the rock I promised in our vows, I have failed to be the calm in her storm and I know I have to make this right and so as she allows her tongue to find mine, a soft shared moan reverberating between us. I promise myself tonight I'll be what she needs, what she deserves and I'll make things right.

The elevator sounds again, causing her to pull away from me and lead me out into an empty hallway, her eyes search the doors for their numbers and we walk to the very end before she comes to a stop outside room 5012. She reaches a hand into her dress and fumbles nervously for a moment before producing the white plastic card key and swiping it in the reader. Two beep and a green light later and she's pushed the door open and is pulling me inside.

Its hurried, the way her lips attack mine, the way her hands map their route over my tingling skin and I'm eager, but I'm also scared. So I take a moment, allow myself to take a step back and really take it all in. Take all of her in, and I see the worry on her face, she hides it well, but not well enough. Because sure as anything its sitting in the left hand corner of her mouth, an upturned uncertainty that I know it's my duty to quell. So I speak for the first time in what feels like an age, and my words find her ears on the soft breeze that's slipping in through the open window.

'Arizona….' It's not some grandiose display of affection but my voice lilts at the exertion of vowels and she comes undone. She unravels and like the night itself she's breath-taking. I find myself rocking on my heels, waiting for her to speak up and declare this too much too fast, but she doesn't. Instead she lifts her hand to my face and her soft touch finds my lips. If she were to ask me anything right now I could only tell her truths, because right in this moment Arizona Robbins Torres, has me completely spellbound. Lift my hands to her hips and slide them up her back, fingers finding the zipper to her dress and slowly easing it down her back. Her hands mimic mine, and I can feel her touch on the base of my spine, slipping inside the material of my dress and moving to hold my hips.

My lips fall into a lazy smile and I move them to her neck, kissing along the line of her shoulder as I push away at the straps of her dress. She tilts her head to the side, eyes clenched tight in anticipation and a soft plea escapes her mouth.

'Calliope…please'.

There it is, the softness in her voice is my downfall and I can feel my shortcomings brimming in the corners of my eyes. I feel her hips rocking against my own and then with a light shimmy her dress has joined my own in a pool of red at our feet. Her eyes open and she meets mine, her gaze wondering a path down my curves, across the light marks that remain on my stomach down to the scars and then her breath hitches. I feel her body tense beneath my touch as she accidentally glances between us and sees no difference. Our bodies are so close and legs tangled that it hasn't given her the opportunity to see my reaction to the slight change in our stance. In all honesty, the only difference now is that she's small enough to tuck her head under my chin, against my chest and hear my heart beat without difficulty and I can't say that it's a bad thing because to me, it's exactly where she belongs.

She smiles and breaks the silence when she declares her need to freshen up, and I know exactly what she's doing. As she makes her way to the bathroom she takes a quick glance over her shoulder and offers me a smile that could easily be the end of me. I watch the door close before allowing myself to take in our surroundings. She was right, the room is beautiful, the décor is beautiful, and I move towards the window, picking up our dresses and throwing them over the arm of the large chair in the corner of the room. Glancing out I notice the sun is setting and a pink haze has stretched itself across the Seattle sky, it is truly… beautiful.

I can't help but wonder what I'm supposed to do, I can hear the taps running in the bathroom and I know Arizona could be a while. The cold air finds my skin and leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake, so I reach for one of the white robes that are sitting on the bed and I slip it on. The warmth envelops me and I grab at the lapels and bury my face into its softness. It's this slight moment of normalcy that allows my brain to defog and I feel a dull ache in my chest. Something isn't right, something just doesn't feel right and I know why. So I walk over to my purse, which is on the table by the door and reach inside, my fingers grasping the plastic weight , I move to the corner of the room. I drop to the floor slowly, curling my knees into my chest and I let my fingers dial the familiar stream of numbers.

One, two, three… and there it is…

'Hey you've reached Mark Sloan, I'm really busy right now so leave a message and I'll get back to you'.

My heart makes an emergency stop, my breath catches in my throat and my words hang on the threshold of my lips at the sound of his voice. I wait for the beep and close my eyes forcing my tears back, biting down hard as I remind myself why I'm doing this. He was my best friend, other than my wife and I just really needed to hear him.

'Hi Mark, it's just me… I don't know what to say or really why I'm doing this, but I just… I guess I needed my wingman. I'm about to have sex, and I'm scared Mark. What if this has changed her, what if she just can't love me the way she used to? What if I hurt her? What do I do Mark? Why aren't you are here to tell me what to do?'. Anger, sadness, desperation… sometimes they're all the same thing.

I feel the phone slipping from my fingers as the door to the bathroom opens and she steps out, cautiously. Her hair is framing her face but I can tell by the way her shoulders are shaking that she has been crying. I stand up instantly and cross the room quicker than even I could have estimated, my hands reaching out for her as she looks up at me, and I feel my heart fall through my chest.

'I'm sorry…' she whispers, shaking her head and I find myself echoing her motions before pulling her to me and wrapping my arms around her exposed waist. She leaves her hand dangling at her sides and I know she's afraid to touch me, because of what she's about to say '… I can't do this, I'm sorry… I'm not ready. I thought I was and I was just… I was… I…' the words leave her lips in a punctuated rush and it hurts me to know I've caused this. So I just hold her, my fingers rubbing circles on her lower back, as I place a kiss on her forehead.

'Arizona, It's okay' I try to make sure my tone is reassuring but I know I have no one to blame but myself when she looks up at me, and I see the fear in her eyes, and the heartbreak I was once famous for as she utters four words that I'll pray I never hear again.

'Please don't leave me'

Desperation is the most intense of all the emotions, it can hold you tighter than a vice and it can crush your heart. It can control you to the point of no return and it can cause a blindness that's hard to overcome. But it can also lead you to reach a place where you have no choice but to change, because, as someone great once said 'it doesn't do to dwell on dreams and forget to live'.

I look at her, like really look at her, my eyes staring into hers and I shake my head, a small smile gracing my face as my hold around her waist falls and my hand finds hers. I lead her to the bed, pulling the sheets back I nod my head at her. She looks at me in confusion as if I haven't heard her and begins to speak once more. But I only urge her into the bed, pushing her gently to a sitting position as I fall to knees in front of her and begin my atonement. My hands are shaking but I manage to make quick work of the fastenings on her thigh, my digits flexing as I unwind the bandaging around her leg and she shifts uncomfortably.

It's this more than anything that hurts me, the fact that she isn't even comfortable enough to let me this close to the cause of our recent situation. No, it's wrong of me to say that because the reality is, the cause of our recent situation was my inability to keep a promise. My inability to be the person I promised her I would be.

So I lower my head, my fingers dancing over the raised scarring on her leg and I take it all in. As my lips connect with the heated patch of skin I hear her gasp. I feel her body shaking beneath me and I know she's crying again but I don't stop. Instead I trail my lips along the angry line, the constant reminder that I failed her and I whisper promises to her and to whatever god is listening that I intend to make everything right. Making my way up her thigh, my hands find hers and she holds them tight, her eyes wide as I continue the path, up her stomach, over the valley of her breasts and up her neck to her ear, where I make my final promise, and do what I should have done a long time ago.

'I will never, ever leave you… whatever you can't do, I will do it for you… that's how this works… I promise you'.

She nods her acceptance, it's not complete forgiveness, no. That will come with time and with evidence of my intentions. But it will come, of that I'm sure because I have lost far too much in this lifetime, to lose something as wonderful and as precious as her. Without her I'm truly nothing and so as the night made its way through the window and cast a dark glow over the room, I helped my wife shuffle further into the sheets and crawled in beside her. Wrapping my arms around her as I held her to my chest, her heart beating in time with mine, the way it should have always been and I smile gratefully as she whispers her love for me because tonight we will go right back to beginning, I will willingly go right back to gain her trust again. Tonight, we will start back at one.

**There it is guys I hope you like it….. sorry if it reads rushed.**

**xxx**


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